The Truth About Gondor
by maikaheniel
Summary: Denethor has just married Finduilas, and Gondor is prospering, but Denethor's advisor has other plans for the newlyweds, and for Gondor....
1. The Overtaking of the Stewardship

The Truth about the Steward  
  
Denethor, the Steward of Gondor, was satisfied. Gondor was in a time of peace, and the economy was doing well. In fact, Gondor was exporting more than any other region, so the poverty level had decreased. There had been no major skirmishes with other kingdoms, so the steward's duties were few. Denethor had time to relax and spend time with his people and his friends. But most of all, Denethor spent time with his newlywed wife.  
  
Denethor found his wife, Finduilas, sitting on a bench, her dark hair swept back behind her ears. She was immersed in a book, and she didn't notice Denethor watching her. He studied her for a moment, noticing the smooth features of her face and her perfect complexion. Her dark eyes gazed in concentration, and her chin rested upon her palm. Denethor thought she was the prettiest woman in Gondor, and he didn't feel worthy of her, but he wasn't too bad looking himself. He had shoulder length black hair, and a dark tan. He was fairly tall, and he walked with a faint air of pride; as well he might, for he had Numenorian blood in him. He was a fairly slim man, but he had broad shoulders and muscular arms- he was the heartthrob of all of Gondor's unmarried girls, and they had become angry when he married Finduilas. He had been the Captain of Gondor, and he had held the highest positions of Gondor's army before he became steward. Denethor was the best sword fighter and he had the best marksmanship of all of Gondor. Even though Denethor had killed countless enemies of Gondor, he was always gentle with his wife. Right now, Denethor walked up behind her and touched her shoulder.  
"I see this book is more important than me." He teased. Finduilas had agreed to have a meeting with Denethor and his advisor, Harthid, to discuss whether or not Gondor should purchase wheat from Rohan, and she had forgotten about it.  
"Oh no!" She cried in dismay. "And we were going to talk about something important, weren't we. I'm so sorry, I suppose now Harthid will get mad... I really did try to remember it, too, but-" Finduilas was unable to finish her sentence, as her husband drew her head close to his and kissed her on the lips, stroking her hair.  
"It's allright darling, Harthid will live. He can't get mad at the Steward of Gondor!" Denethor laughed light-heartedly. "But seriously, I told him it was too nice of a day to discuss wheat. I have officially taken the day off from being a steward. What say we go on a picnic?"  
"I was just thinking about doing that!" Finduilas agreed happily, and the young couple walked off hand in hand.  
  
Harthid watched them walk away from a darkened window. Oddly enough, he looked very similiar to Denethor, except that they were 10 years apart. When you compared their eyes and expressions, though, you could tell there was a big difference. Harthid had a sour expression and his mouth was forever etched in a sneer. There was just something about him that made you afraid to meet him in a dark alley. Because he was the steward's advisor, he had a lot of influence over Denethor, probably too much. Denethor was still fairly young and innocent, and he listened to every word that Harthid said. Harthid was slowly trying to gain power, and he had no fear that Denethor would stop him. He snickered as he watched them leave the hall, and he longed for the day when he would have control of Gondor.  
  
Denethor and Finduilas returned late that evening, after a day of relaxation. As they entered the Great Hall, they noticed that something was amiss. As it was supper time, people would usually be swarming the halls, but now it was as empty and silent as a tomb stone. The candles had been blown out and the moonlight cast long shadows.  
Finduilas clung to Denethor. "I don't like it, there's something wrong. Let's go back." She pleaded with Denethor.  
"No, I have to find Harthid. I promised I'd talk with him after dinner was over. There's nothing to be afraid of Duila (dwe-la), it's probably just something we forgot about, maybe the soldiers are holding a festival or something."  
"Yeah..." Finduilas said, not quite comforted. "I'll think I'll go back anyway, I'm kind of tired."  
"Allright, I'll be there in a moment. Do you want me to walk you back?"  
"No, it's okay. I'll be fine- you men think your so tough," she teased him. He laughed and she left to go back to their rooms.  
Suddenly, Denethor heard Finduilas scream. He started to run towards the door.  
"Finduilas! Finduilas! Where are you?!" He looked around frantically, but he couldn't see very well in the dark, with only faint moonlight from a window lighting the room. He strode towards a nearby candle and searched for flint and steel.  
"Aha!" He exclaimed as he found it. He lit the candle and looked around quickly. "Where are you Finduilas?" He started to go towards the door when he felt a cold sharp object on his neck. "Wha-?" He started to say, when what he recognized as a sword dug into his neck.  
"Don't make a move and do NOT make a sound if you wish this to be painless. Understand?" A voice hissed. Denethor seethed in anger. He recognized the voice as his once trusted advisor.  
"What have you done with Finduilas?! You betrayed me, you son of Melkor!" Denethor spat out, paying Harthid one of the worse insults in Gondor. "I demand to see my wife!" Denethor exclaimed, regardless of Harthid's warning.  
Denethor heard Harthid's voice growl the word "shutup" and then everything went black as he was knocked out with the flat of Harthid's blade..... 


	2. The Imposter of the Stewardship

Denethor was speaking to his people. "I am sorry to inform you that...that..." He started to sob and he had to pause to wipe his eyes. "My wife, Finduilas, has.....has....passed away. He paused for a few seconds. Harthid, my advisor, was practicing knife throwing....and.....well...Finduilas was walking by...and..." Denethor couldn't go on, and a man standing next to Denethor started to comfort him. The man spoke up, "Denethor is still in shock over this, please forgive him. Not only was his beloved wife killed, but Harthid fled Gondor out of shame. Please excuse us, I know you'll understand." The two left and Denethor leant on the man, his body convulsing with dry sobs.  
The people started to look at each other, and you could hear words of disbelief and shock throughout the crowd. The door slammed shut, and the people started to walk home, wondering what would happen to Gondor now that the steward's beloved Finduilas was dead, and his advisor gone.  
Inside the doors, Denethor stopped sobbing. "Can they hear me?" he whispered. What had appeared to be Denethor, was Harthid. One of his accomplices had skillfully used some form of paint/makeup on Harthid so that he looked more like Denethor, and kinder than usual. If you looked extremely closely, and if you were observant enough, you could still tell that it was Harthid, but the ordinary person would never notice.  
After the man that had supported "Denethor" shook his head, "Denethor" started to laugh. "Those fools fell for it! Hahahahaha!" His accomplices started to laugh too, and one of them spoke up.  
"A mixed-breed ruling the pure blood Gondor! That's great!" The man known as Narghik slapped his thigh, chuckling.  
Harthid stopped laughing, and the rest of his men instantly stopped too, as Harthid grabbed the man's throat. "Don't ever call me that AGAIN! I may be part mountain man and orc, but I'm NOT a mixed-breed." He looked around. "And if I hear any of you call me that, you won't have a mouth left to say that with. He let Narghik go, and Narghik fell down, whimpering and holding his throat. Harthid looked at him with a sneer on his face, kicked him in the stomach, and left the room.  
  
Finduilas opened her eyes and looked around dazedly. Everything was black and her arms and legs felt strange. She tried to get up, but her arms and legs weren't movingshe couldn't. She looked down at herself stupidly; her eyesight was bleary from sleep and her head was aching for some reason. She realized that she was bound, and suddenly it all came rushing back to her: The Great Hall...Denethor...a strange man coming toward her holding a candlestick....then darkness....and after that she remembered nothing.  
  
TBC 


End file.
